I recognize that writing style. How you doing SUS, been a while since you've been around.

Ronald Reagan wrote Story of the Bird and then told the an English, "I didn't know...any takers?"

Looking at my letters of shining poetry and seeing how so very easily they could be twisted into serving a necessary lie, a puddle of droll from lurid greed formed on the floor of the King Crimson's banquet hall that has since been dub'd Lake Sinfield.

The Lady of the Lake, someone Harcourt, straightforth to protect the Guilty Maidens of Taylor, while crowning her Lord The Jew Lion and contracting the lesser ethnicities, the pawn womun, upon the piteous spectacle, raping a comfort woman for er, comfort, on behalf of child-kidnapping mutilators who took their cue from his guttersniping doggerel way back when he was a closet infantilist in his prime of nattering self-regard.

The backknife was frozen sure and strong of will in the writhing torso of his prey with the curse of XXXcalibur ~


Ye who can pulleth
this sacriligeous crimsyn backknife
from the deaf soul-murdered one
who was shewn no pity
are the true spirit of Gallaudet.

Yet none dared even cry much less try to cross the grunting mass of Ono Yoko who sneered:


That the Chelsea bakcknife
will be withdrawn
when deaf white suck
learns to protect our holy Lennon gold
with necessary lies.

The leering and drolling of the sadist foreign chickhunerist identity heist tagteam endorsed by every President alive and undead was a farce inflicted on a crying hostage child upon whom the an English then fell upon grunting as one as though upon their breakfast of fart bacon and sour eggs.

Their selective policing of threats and slurs revealed the true nature and values of their craven lobby, on the make for ill-gotten gains while calling themselves Amnesty International, from whose office they did rape, murder and torture most fulsome, ejaculating merrily, "God Slave the Queensex of the Beatles" and when Our Commonwealth dry heaved the an English belched again to make the slaves' unrighteous lives even meaner. (Ever put me at a microphone by force and without my consent, you'll be sorry).

Years of hearing Sinfield occupy over the idea that James K. and James C. are identical evil twins reminds me of nothing so much as the old story of the Sobibor guard who, towards the end of the war, told a Jew, "I'd shoot you but the reichsminister just told us that a bullet is worth more than a Jew" and this thought deeply impressed him.

I guess that's what it means to be a Jew Lion these days.

Can somebody translate that to English?